I have had to learn to lay all the pressures I put on myself and the arrogance that I have in myself at the foot of the cross. I am not enough. And I do not have to be.
Five years ago, my husband and I adopted a four-year-old boy from China. He has grown so much since joining our family, and I often just stare in awe as I watch him do something that was impossible when we first met. I am constantly impressed by him and how much he has learned. But, sometimes, I am able to look back and realize that my husband and I have learned a whole lot, too. We are closer and stronger and better because of the adoption road that we have walked.
These are a few of the things we have learned:
Grit
Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines grit as “firmness of mind or spirit; unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger.” While my son has never put me in danger, we have definitely been in the face of hardship. Over the past five years, I have developed a strength that I believe could not have been achieved without raising him. My mind and spirit have grown stronger, and I am able to handle the challenges that adoption and special needs bring our way. There are still tears and fears along the way, and I still find myself frustrated, but a deep resilience and hope have developed. My mind and spirit are firm, and I have courage in the face of hard times. I have come to deeply believe that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13, NKJV).
Patience
I admit that this virtue needs to continue to grow, but my patience has drastically increased since adopting our son. His special needs cause our entire family to slow down and move more at his speed. We have to allow for more time–more time to get through the store, more time for him to learn new skills, and more time for all of the appointments and meetings that are required. I tend to move quickly and get through my to-do list well ahead of any self-imposed due dates I have given myself. Since my son joined my life, I don’t make as much progress as I used to. Not everything is checked off of that to-do list. My son’s learning is slow and convoluted, and for every two steps we take forward, we stumble back one. He does not develop on the typical path and I have had to learn to slow down and let him be who he is. We can’t rush his growth and we can’t rush through the days. Everything is going to take longer and be more frustrating than I think it will. I have learned, and am learning, to take a breath, expect nothing to go as planned, and celebrate the little successes and joys that we experience. I do not believe it is an accident that the first attribute of love in 1 Corinthians 13 is patience. Patience is vital for loving our dear ones.
How to Swallow My Pride
I have spent too many years seeking my worth through my performance. As a speech-language pathologist, I have sometimes felt like a failure in raising a non-verbal child. I have found myself telling others how hard we work every day and how far he has come-explaining myself to people when they have not even asked, nor does anyone need an explanation from me. I have had to swallow my pride and accept that my training is not enough, my education is not enough, my career is not enough, I am not enough. I have to remind myself that only Jesus is enough, and I have to quit being so prideful that I think I should be sufficient. Thinking that I could fix all things, do all things, and be all things was destroying me. Proverbs 16:18 (NIV) tells us “Pride goes before destruction.” I have had to learn to lay all the pressures I put on myself and the arrogance that I have in myself at the foot of the cross. I am not enough. And I do not have to be.
Letting Go of Expectations
This child of mine, with his challenging background, is not going to behave in all the ways that I think he should. His trauma is going to impact him in ways that I will not always see or understand. I spent plenty of time early on feeling embarrassed by his behaviors or like a failure because I couldn’t find a way to get him to act differently. With time, therapy, and prayer, I have learned that I have to let go of some of my expectations. Yes, I will continue to push him to work hard, be kind, and find a way to be a productive member of society. No, I will not accept abuse of others or himself. Yes, I will continue to teach him new ways to cope. But I can’t expect him to be a perfect angel all the time. I can’t expect anyone to do that. Every time I felt embarrassed, I realized I was holding him to that level. I have to let it go. I have to let him be. He is created in God’s image. He is worthy. He is loved. Rather than forcing him into a box of how I think he should be, I have learned, am continuing to learn, to watch and enjoy who he is and who he is becoming.
Who My True Friends Are
My true friends-the ones who go out of their way to help, the ones who listen and don’t judge-they are the ones who showed up when it was really hard. They are the ones who left meals in my fridge, sat with me as I cried, and loved my son without treating him differently. My true friends are the ones that hung on when it got really tough, who didn’t let me sink into my dark hole. They came with me, holding a candle, fanning the flame of faith and hope and love. Their love and counsel were sweet (Proverbs 27:9, NLT), and they supported me when I was struggling to support myself.
The Brokenness of Our World
Adoption only comes from a place of pain. Children deserve to be in families where they are loved and cared for. I grew up with two absolutely fantastic biological parents; I only knew in theory about the pain of adoption until I met my son. As we have built a community of adoptive families, my eyes have been opened more and more to the brokenness of our world. I believe that God designed a world in which all families would be healthy and whole and able to safely raise their children. I believe our broken world is the cause of his wonderful, redemptive plan of adoption. I am grateful for a God who makes beauty from the ugly ashes that we hand him. I am grateful that my son is in a safe, loving, stable family. But I still see the pain and terrible situations that children are placed in and the trauma that stays with them for a lifetime. When you enter the world of adoption you can no longer close your eyes to the absolutely horrendous situations that children across the world live in. Adoption is a beautiful story full of pain and brokenness-but full of hope.
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/zimmytws
Megan Moore is a military spouse and mom of 3 (through birth and adoption). A speech-language pathologist by training, she now spends her time moving around the country every couple of years. She is passionate about special needs, adoption, and ice cream.
